Buffalo, Nov 12, ’70.  Dear uncle and aunt,—­I came into the world on the 7th inst., and consequently am about five days old, now.  I have had wretched health ever since I made my appearance.  First one thing and then another has kept me under the weather, and as a general thing I have been chilly and uncomfortable.

I am not corpulent, nor am I robust in any way.  At birth I only weighed 4 1/2 pounds with my clothes on—­and the clothes were the chief feature of the weight, too, I am obliged to confess.  But I am doing finely, all things considered.  I was at a standstill for 3 days and a half, but during the last 24 hours I have gained nearly an ounce, avoirdupois.

They all say I look very old and venerable-and I am aware, myself, that I never smile.  Life seems a serious thing, what I have seen of it—­and my observation teaches me that it is made up mainly of hiccups, unnecessary washings, and colic.  But no doubt you, who are old, have long since grown accustomed and reconciled to what seems to me such a disagreeable novelty.

My father said, this morning, when my face was in repose and thoughtful, that I looked precisely as young Edward Twichell of Hartford used to look some is months ago—­chin, mouth, forehead, expression—­everything.

My little mother is very bright and cheery, and I guess she is pretty happy, but I don’t know what about.  She laughs a great deal, notwithstanding she is sick abed.  And she eats a great deal, though she says that is because the nurse desires it.  And when she has had all the nurse desires her to have, she asks for more.  She is getting along very well indeed.

My aunt Susie Crane has been here some ten days or two weeks, but goes
home today, and Granny Fairbanks of Cleveland arrives to take her place.
—­[Mrs. Fairbanks, of the Quaker City excursion.]
                                   Very lovingly,
                                             Langdon Clemens.

P. S. Father said I had better write because you would be more interested in me, just now, than in the rest of the family.

Clemens had made the acquaintance of the Rev. Joseph Hopkins Twichell and his wife during his several sojourns in Hartford, in connection with his book publication, and the two men had immediately become firm friends.  Twichell had come to Elmira in February to the wedding to assist Rev. Thos.  K. Beecher in the marriage ceremony.  Joseph Twichell was a devout Christian, while Mark Twain was a doubter, even a scoffer, where orthodoxy was concerned, yet the sincerity and humanity of the two men drew them together; their friendship was lifelong.

A second letter to Twichell, something more than a month later,
shows a somewhat improved condition in the Clemens household.

To Rev. Twichell, in Hartford: 

BUF.  Dec. 19th, 1870.  Dear J. H.,—­All is well with us, I believe—­though for some days the baby was quite ill.  We consider him nearly restored to health now, however.  Ask my brother about us—­you will find him at Bliss’s publishing office, where he is gone to edit Bliss’s new paper—­left here last Monday.  Make his and his wife’s acquaintance.  Take Mrs. T. to see them as soon as they are fixed.